No Rest for the Wicked
by Travithian Axile
Summary: Soon after the game ends. Oneshot. Sephiroth returns in an original way. At least, I haven't seen anything else like this on FF. net. R&R!


No Rest for the Wicked  
  
By Travithian Axile  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters or places mentioned in this work of fiction, only the plot.  
  
"...easy it is for us to slip into our dreamless sleep. For you, there will be no such respite..." —Margaret Weis  
  
Vincent had gone off on his own again.  
  
It wasn't that he found the constant presence of his companions irritating; their experiences had bound them together like nothing else could. It was...because...for once, they couldn't understand. No one still understood completely the extent of his relationship with the now dead ShinRa General. So, while they boisterously celebrated his defeat in the Highwind, parked next to Rocket Town, he had quietly gone over the side with his golden chocobo, Blade, in tow. He urged the huge bird into a swift canter.  
  
In seconds, the Highwind was a black dot silhouetted against the horizon. Vincent brooded as Blade's fast moving legs quickly ate up the miles between him and his destination. He had only Blade and his somber thoughts for company, but that didn't really bother him. He was born and bred to be a loner, and sometimes even Yuffie's annoying chatter tended to get under his skin, including the other members of AVALANCHE. He knew that they, in truth, really cared about him, though, and would insist on accompanying him. Thus the secret sojourn out in the night without telling anyone.  
  
They would think he was mad, for doing this, but for reasons Vincent himself couldn't explain, he just had to go there. He felt as though he was being pulled by an invisible magnet, being drawn over the mountains and rivers. He wondered at the odd sensation. Maybe it was just his imagination. But during his turbulent years as a Turk, he had grown to trust his gut feeling. And his gut feeling told him that he was doing the right thing.  
  
Spray hit his face with cool, damp fingers as Blade plunged into the river that ran within Nibelheim and Cosmo Canyon. Blade was smart and knew the way, so Vincent let the golden chocobo have his head and sunk into a deep reverie, something he was prone to do whenever he was alone. He thought mostly of the past and faded regrets, and of course, of her, who had once ruled his heart, and him, who had entered his life recently and left just as suddenly.  
  
The first flush of dawn had just colored the sky above the Nibel Mountains when Blade ran down a steep slope, across a perfectly round lake, and came to a stop just beside a waterfall. The bird preened and shook its wet feathers dry after the red- cloaked man dismounted. Vincent thanked his chocobo by ruffling the feathers on his head and gave him a Milmett Green for his trouble. While Blade devoured the Green, Vincent walked straight into the waterfall.  
  
He emerged out of the sheet of water a little wet but fine, into a cave that he and his companions had accidentally stumbled upon during their quest to search for Sephiroth. It seemed to be formed of some mysterious blue crystal that glowed with an inner light, the likes of which Vincent had never seen before and could not identify. At the far end was a set of steps leading to a pedestal with a piece of flat stone worked into a seashell shape against the wall. Soft white light beamed out of the alcove from an unknown source.  
  
Vincent hesitantly approached, remembering the last two times he had set foot within the cave. The first time, when Lucrecia had shown his friends images of the past. The second time, when she had given him his Death Penalty rifle and the ability to change into a new, hideous form to fight Jenova.  
  
"...Lucrecia?" he softly called.  
  
Within the light, something stirred. The vague, pale face of a beautiful bruneete wavered, then solidified. The jade green eyes that had ensnared his heart many years ago appeared even duller and listless than when he had seen her last. When her gaze fell upon him, however, they hardened and smoldered with newly awoken anger. Vincent fell back a step before her revealed fury as his old flame straightened and glared.  
  
"What is it?" Vincent faltered.  
  
Her anger quickly crumbled, leaving only sad, resigned grief. "You lied," the scientist answered his question mournfully, her voice breathy as a gust of wind, muffled as though it was coming from a long way far off. In a way, that was true. Lucrecia was beyond his reach now, anyone's reach.  
  
"About what?" Vincent asked, but he was beginning to get a sick suspicion that he knew the answer. But how could Lucrecia have known? She was trapped here forever. It was not as if she could just walk out and ask.  
  
Lucrecia did not answer immediately. She glanced behind her, at something he could not see, and her eyes sparkled a little too much for Vincent's liking. When she looked back at him again, her eyes were wet, but her voice was steady, though hurt, as she said, "You told me he was dead. I was so...relieved, though sad. He was my son, after all, but I knew what he would suffer at Professor Hojo's hands would be far worse than death. I was so happy...I thought he lay in peace in the Lifestream, unlike me. I thought he was spared my fate..."  
  
She bowed her head, her small hands curling into fists at her sides. Vincent longed to put his arms around her, but he resisted the urge. He knew that he would just pass through her as though she was as insubstantial as smoke. She wasn't really part of this world anymore. Just a pale shadow of what she had been in life.  
  
"But if he wasn't dead before, he is now," he insisted. "We've killed him. He's dead now."  
  
Bitter laughter cut his words off. But the source of the mirthless merriment was not Lucrecia, who shook her head sorrowfully. Beside her, a new shape took form, gaining in substance and color with every passing second. Vincent felt his breath catch painfully in his throat as the new figure became solid enough for him to ,ake out horribly familiar details; black leather, long silver bangs, an arrogant smirk, and eyes the same color as Lucrecia and colder than the winter sky...  
  
"Undead, more like," Sephiroth stated scornfully. His long hair fluttered in a mysterious breeze as he moved closer to his mother. He gave a tight, humorless smile. "They say that there is no rest for the wicked."  
  
Vincent could only gape at the man who could have been his son under different circumstances. Sephiroth's face was drawn and white, and the chest wound that Cloud had inflicted on him during the climatic final battle in the Northern Crater still glistened with ghostly, luminous blood. Every step evidently cost him pain, but he gritted his teeth resolutely and dragged his feet forward until he stood face to face with the gunslinger.  
  
An odd, detached smile lifted a corner of the ex-General's mouth. "As you can see now, I'm a ghost, like my dear mother. My real mother. Neither here nor there. And a lot worse off." Like Lucrecia, his voice seemed to come from far away, the sound sighing and echoing emptily throughout the cave long after he had ceased speaking.  
  
He laughed again, mockingly. "You told me to rest in peace, after the damned 'failure' killed me. What utter rubbish! I have too many alien cells for me to be human anymore. The Lifestream rejected me and tossed me out at this waystation just like Lucrecia." His green eyes flared with a terrible light. "doomed to stay here until the end of time. After all, Jenova cells makes one practically immortal. It keeps you living...even after you die." His eyes sought out Vincent's ruby ones. "You have the taint of Jenova too. As do Cloud and that red beast. Now you know what you have to look forward to." He shrugged and winced at the pain the motion cost him. "Or maybe the Planet will accept you, since you're the great, wonderful heroes who saved the world." His sarcasm was so strong it could have burnt a hole through mythril.  
  
The swordsman snickered at Vincent's expression. The gunslinger stared at him, seeing the wide, staring, dead eyes, the terrible, bleeding wound, the chest that did not rise and fall—for the dead did not need to breathe. Sephiroth's image shimmered like a mirage in the desert, sometimes solid, sometimes translucent, a wraith walking the edge of both worlds. But what was worst was the sheer intensity of the cynicism and bitterness that existed within the depths of the pale green eyes. Forced to live day after day in agony, without any hope of rest or peace. Vincent could not help feeling as though he had failed Lucrecia again by being unable to save her child from this fate.  
  
But all he could say was, in a hushed tine, was, "I'm sorry."  
  
Sephiroth snorted in disdain. "Better one man and one woman suffering than the whole world dead," he pointed out coolly. "Don't delude yourself, Valentine. I deserve this. For Meteor. For Jenova." He glanced at Lucrecia, who had remained silent the entire time since Sephiroth had shown himself and continued to do so. For a split second his expression softened before becoming hostile again. "At least the pain is not so bad when you aren't alone." He shrugged again, then grimaced as fresh blood curtained over his lip.  
  
Again, Vincent could think of nothing to say that could possibly help or defuse the situation. He just stood there mutely, his soul aching to see the two of them in torment. He wished with all of his might that he could help them, do anything, if just to ease them of their agony.  
  
Lucrecia came forward and put an arm around her son, affection and sadness in her expression. She gestured with one hand that glowed with soft white light. "Leave, Vincent. You can do nothing for us."  
  
His expression must have become stunned, because Lucrecia amended her statement hastily. "That is not an insult, nor was it expressed out of a desire to see you go away, Vincent," she said softly. "Far from it. Your presence brings back memories of better times, better places." She blinked rapidly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand, her tone holding a touch of bittersweet wistfulness. "But your place is with your friends—the living, not the dead."  
  
Vincent nodded in understanding. Though it pained him to leave just like that, he headed towards the entrance. "Farewell. Until next time...I'll be back," he promised.  
  
Sephiroth's voice rang out behind him, mocking, derisive. "Come back to visit anytime, Valentine. It's not as if we are going anywhere."  
  
Vincent glanced back. Sephiroth and Lucrecia stood once more in the white light, hands entwined. Lucrecia waved at him shyly; the silver- haired swordsman just smirked openly. Then they seemed to vanish, melting into the light until their outlines could no longer be seen.  
  
Vincent departed without looking back again. He mounted Blade, who was still waiting patiently for him outside. He stroked the chocobo's glossy feathers, turning his head back to the direction of Rocket Town.  
  
"Come on, Blade," he said. "Let's go home."  
  
Author's Ending Note: Thank you for reading this piece of fanfiction. It was an interesting idea I got, about 'What if Sephiroth had come back, but in a totally different way? Since Lu was his mom and ended up in that cave, why shouldn't he?' Hope that this idea makes sense and isn't too far fetched. If you enjoy reading Sephiroth work, please check out my other fanfic, There is Always Light shameless advertising I humbly request for you please press that button at the bottom left corner before you leave.  
  
Travithian Axile signing out 


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